


Brian's Boy

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-13
Updated: 2008-04-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: A tribute to tricia_qaf who writes the best BDSM evah.





	Brian's Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: Be warned: I don't do BDSM nearly as well as tricia_qaf, but what follows is me taking my best shot.  


* * *

It was 4:00 a.m. on a Thursday…no, Friday…morning, and Justin was very, very drunk. He’d called Brian around 7:00 and told him that he was at Daphne’s and that they were going to order pizza and watch a couple more episodes of “Firefly.” One episode had stretched into 14, then there were the bonus features, the full length movie, and its bonus features.

Daphne only had a couple of beers in the apartment, so they’d switched to vodka and cranberry juice because Daphne thought she was coming down with a bladder infection. A couple of those, and Justin decided that the cranberry juice was upsetting his stomach. Daphne said, “Bullshit,” but he started drinking his vodka straight anyway. He remembered getting in the taxi at Daphne’s and he remembered giving the driver a bunch of bills when they pulled up to the loft. He didn’t remember anything else about the ride home, and he wasn’t really sure where they left off their “Firefly” marathon. He was wrecked, of that he was certain.

He pushed the door open, and it gave its usual screech. He giggled. He had planned to be very, very quiet coming home…to sneak in, in fact…because he didn’t want to wake Brian up. But the fucking door wasn’t cooperating. It squeaked again when he shut it and he maybe pushed it a little too hard because it banged against the wall. He giggled again before he remembered that he was supposed to be being quiet. He held his breath and listened, but Brian lay still. Good. He hadn’t woken up.

Justin tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door before he turned on the light. He stripped off his clothes, peed, and thought about brushing his teeth. Too fucking much trouble. He stumbled across the floor to the bed, following the path the light made. Fuck. He’d forgotten to turn off the bathroom light. He turned unsteadily and thought about just falling into bed and _fuck the light anyway_ when he remembered Brian. The light might wake Brian up and he’d be mad. Justin sighed, stumbled back to the bathroom, then finally lurched across the room and dropped onto the bed. _Not my side_ , he thought, and passed out.

The next minute cold air hit Justin. He groped for the covers. A voice colder than the air said, “It’s after 8:00 already. Get up.”

_Shit. Brian. He sounds pissed._

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last ten minutes. You’re making me late for my first meeting. Get the fuck up NOW.”

_He’s not pissed. He’s fucking angry._ With a wince and a moan, Justin pushed himself up into a sitting position. He curled his legs under him and knelt, his head down, his eyes directed toward the mattress.

“Good move,” Brian said, his voice cold and hard. “I don’t have time to deal with you now. That will have to wait until I get home…whenever I get home. You’ll have plenty of time to think about what I’m planning for you.”

“I’m sorry, Brian.”

“Sorry’s bullshit,” Brian snorted. “I believe you have a commission you are working on here…?”

Justin nodded, still not looking up.

“And that there’s nothing you have to do that will require you to leave the loft?”

Another nod.

“Then may I suggest that you take time out of your busy schedule to make sure this place is squeaky-clean before I get home…look at me now, Justin…and…just to make sure you contemplate your sins while I’m gone…I want you naked…stark bare ass naked… the whole fucking day. Understand?”

“Yes, Brian.” Justin’s whisper was barely audible.

“I may be home an hour from now or at lunch time or not until Babylon closes tomorrow morning. Whenever I get here, you’d better be waiting, on your knees, contrite, and ready for your punishment.”

Justin’s eyes dropped back to the bedclothes. “I understand.”

“I hope you do. I have something…imaginative planned.”

***************************************************************************

Cole worked with Steve…for him, indirectly…Steve was Marsha’s boss…and he’d wondered about Steve for a month or two before he met him one Friday night at The Painted Pony. Cole was with a couple of buddies, guys he went to night school with, and he was surprised…but not surprised…when he saw Steve at a gay bar. The Pony didn’t make any bones about being a gay bar, and it was a pretty good place for a hot, young guy like himself to pick up older guys. Cole never put out for money, but he wasn’t against an older guy picking up his tab and maybe taking him home later.

Of course, the situation is a little different when the guy sitting at the bar is your boss’ boss. Cole said, “Fuck,” and turned to his buddy, Dave, moving so that his face wasn’t in Steve’s line of sight. “Dave,” he hissed, “my boss is at the bar.”

Dave said, “Shit. What are you going to do? Wanna leave?”

For a minute that seemed like a good idea, but Cole hated backing down. “Nah,” he said, “I’m going to go say Hi,” and he squared his shoulders and marched over to Steve.

As it turned out, Steve was only a little disconcerted at being caught at a gay bar, and he ended up buying Cole’s drinks, meeting Cole’s friends, and…yes…taking Cole home that night. Nothing changed at work, but come the next Friday night, Steve asked him if he planned to be at The Pony again. They went home together again, and that night Steve tied him up. That was pretty hot. Cole liked being tied up and forced to do all the things he would have done anyway.

The same thing happened the next Friday and the Friday after that. He and Steve left work separately, Cole went home and changed, and he met Steve at the bar. Only Friday nights, though – Steve made it clear he had other commitments on the weekends and some weekday nights. None of the other commitments seemed to like being tied up, however, and Cole could tell Steve got off on ordering him around, big time. Cole liked it, too, so far as it went. Steve even gave him a safe word – gay - not that Cole ever came close to using it.

It was maybe his third or fourth ‘date’ with Steve when he met Brian. He came through the door of The Pony, and Steve was already seated at the bar, talking to a guy about his own age. Now, one of the things Cole liked about Steve was that he was good-looking for a guy in his late thirties…sort of looked like he’d stepped off a Marlboro carton, despite having lived in Pittsburgh all his life. He was tall and lanky, with brown hair graying at the temples. He was even a little bow-legged, as though he rode horseback every day. He dressed the part, too, wearing jeans and cowboy boots to the office whenever he thought he could get away with it. Usually Cole would look over the guys at the bar, and Steve would be the best looking.

Not this Friday night. This guy Brian was hot, hotter even than Steve. He had something about him that Steve lacked, something that made Cole want Brian to like him, even before Steve introduced them. Steve said, “This is Cole I was telling you about.”

Brian didn’t say anything, just raised one eyebrow.

Steve said, “Cole, Brian Kinney.”

Cole stuck out his hand and said, “Hi, Brian.”

Brian just looked at his hand and said, “That’s Mr. Kinney to you.” He didn’t use a nice tone of voice, either.

Oddly enough, that just made Cole want Brian to like him more, but the guy continued to ignore him. Steve bought Cole a beer, and Cole sipped it and listened to their conversation which was mainly about the stock market. After half an hour, forty-five minutes, Brian stood up…God, he looked hot in a suit that must have cost more than Cole made in a week…or maybe a month…and said, “So, listen, if I have a problem with Justin, I’ll give you two a call and maybe we can get together.”

That got Cole’s attention. As soon as the door closed on Brian’s back, he said, “We’re getting together with Brian?”

Steve said, “Mr. Kinney to you,” but he said it in such a way that Cole knew Steve thought it was a joke. Cole wasn’t so sure Mr. Kinney had been joking. “Brian has a boy like you, and he says that a couple of times a year, they get into some intense shit. The next time they do, he said we could join them, watch, maybe get some pointers.”

That sounded hot to Cole. Brian’s attitude was kind of a turn-on, in a perverse sort of way. Cole was sure that if they really got into it, that would be the end of Brian’s ignoring him.

Another couple of weeks went by, and then Steve stopped at Cole’s desk about noon on a Friday. Cole could see that Steve was really keyed up. “I got a call from Brian,” he said. “Can you get to The Pony a little earlier tonight, about seven?”

Could he get to the Pony an hour earlier than usual if it meant doing something with Bri…Mr. Kinney? Damn straight he could.

Cole was there on the dot of 7:00 and saw that Steve was already sitting at the bar. They each had a beer or two, and Cole could tell Steve was getting worried as 7:30 came and went. It was almost a quarter to 8:00 when Brian strolled in, as cool as a cucumber in his designer suit. He greeted Steve, ignored Cole, and said to Steve, “I’ve got my car around the corner – follow me home?”

When they got there, Brian keyed the door open and then ushered them into the old industrial elevator. The door to his apartment looked like it was original to the building. It groaned as Brian slid it along its track. Once it was fully open and Cole was following Steve and Brian into the apartment behind it, he got a quick impression of modern and stainless steel and expensive, but it was only an impression. His whole attention was riveted on the man in the middle of the floor: naked and blond and beautiful, Cole thought, even though he couldn’t really see the features on the man’s down-turned face.

Cole thought of himself as hard to shock…he’d gone home with dozens of men, probably, never knowing what he was going to find when he got there, and he’d always managed to be pretty blasé about what he encountered…but he found the sight of this man unsettling. The man…Brian’s ‘boy’…didn’t move when the door opened. He stayed motionless, kneeling with his legs spread, his penis dangling between them, and his hands behind his back.

Brian’s arm swept out in an arc, as though presenting the next act at a circus, and he said, dramatically, “This is Justin.” Cole was watching the man closely and now he did see a change, a blush that reddened his cheeks and forehead and mottled his neck and shoulders. _My God, how embarrassed he must be._ He felt his own dick stir in sympathy.

Brian said, “Justin, say hello to our guests.”

***************************************************************************

Justin heard the elevator rattle past the floor below around 8:00 p.m.. A quick look around the loft…he knew it was spotless, with everything in its place, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking one more look…and he dropped to his knees in the middle of the floor, in line with the door. He spread his knees as far apart as possible, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked down at the floor. He felt very aware of his penis, dangling between his legs, as though somehow it was his fault that it was still flaccid. _Perhaps I should have jacked myself off a little, so Brian would think that I’ve already started getting off on this._ The familiar worry…what was the right response? what did Brian want him to do?…was making his heart beat faster and he thought he was flushing a little.

The door slid open, and he watched Brian’s Pradas walk through, followed by a pair of cowboy boots and a pair of Nike sneakers. _What the fuck? Shit! He’s brought someone back with him?_

Justin looked up at Brian as much as he could without moving his head, enough to see Brian sweep his arm out in his direction. Brian said, “This is Justin.” Justin knew how he must appear to these two strangers…he could see enough of the two men to be fairly sure he knew neither of them…naked, kneeling, completely exposed, completely open to their scrutiny. Now he was blushing furiously and his dick was hardening.

Brian said, “Justin, say hello to our guests.”

Justin raised his head and got his first good look at the Cowboy and his Kid. Brian waved at the Cowboy and said, “Steven.” Steve was trying to look unfazed by the unusual sight before him and just blinked once in response. Justin bobbed his head and turned to the Kid. The boy was staring at him, his mouth a little open. Justin smiled encouragingly, and the boy shut his mouth and shot him a quick grin. “Cole,” Brian said in introduction. “Hi, Cole,” Justin said. The boy looked to be 19 or 20, about the same height as Justin, but with a little stockier build. Despite his olive complexion, he was blushing. He nodded to Justin, apparently too shocked to speak.“That’s enough, Justin,” Brian said, and Justin dropped his gaze to the floor again.“Tell Steve why you’re here this way,” Brian continued.“Because…because I stayed out until 4:00 a.m. this morning?” Justin squirmed as best he could without changing position. His knees hurt, and he was getting harder. “Is that all?” “N-no. I came home drunk?”  
“You tried to sneak home drunk. Do you think I didn’t wake up? Do you think I didn’t hear the door slam? Do you think I didn’t hear all that giggling?”

“I’m sorry, Brian.”

“What else?”

Justin thought furiously, but that was it. He guessed there must be something else, something he couldn’t recall. He shut his eyes briefly. He was in so much trouble.

“I asked, What else?”

“I don’t know,” he said, desperately. “I can’t think….”

“Hold out your hands…both hands. Now look at them. Are your fingers broken?”

Another wave of blushing hit him, and now he was almost erect. “I didn’t call. Oh God, I should have called and said I’d be late.” He wanted to cover his face with his hands. He had to force them behind his back again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re going to be sorrier very, very soon…so sorry that you’ll remember to call next time…if you even dare to think about a next time after I get done with you. Stand up. “

It took Justin a minute to get one foot flat on the floor so that he could push himself to his feet. His legs had stiffened in the awkward position, and he had a mild cramp in the hamstring of his left thigh. He kept his head bent as he struggled to his feet, but he moved his eyes, trying to see if Brian was getting annoyed at his slowness. It was so hard to tell. Brian’s face gave nothing away.

When he was on his feet, Brian said, “Go to the toy box, and get the strap.” Justin flashed him a look. Brian said, “Yes, it’s new. I don’t think you’re going to like it much.”

***************************************************************************

As Justin turned away, Steve said, “He’s very obedient.”

Cole thought, _Who wouldn’t be obedient to Brian? The way he looks at his boy, his tone of voice when he speaks to him…I’d be obedient, too._

As though he had read his mind, Brian turned to him. “You,” he said, “what’s your name again?”

Cole looked back into intense hazel eyes. “Cole,” he said.

“Strip,” Brian said.

Cole hesitated. He flicked a quick look at Steve.

Steve said, “What do you have in mind here, Brian?”

Brian ignored him, his eyes never leaving Cole. “I said, strip. I’m not saying it again, Cole.”

Cole licked his lips nervously, then grabbed the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up over his chest.

Steve said, “Wait a damn minute!” and Cole paused.

Brian said nothing. He continued to stare at Cole. Cole pulled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor behind him.

Brian said, “Pants,” his voice peremptory. Cole unsnapped and unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. He pulled off his sneakers and socks and kicked off his jeans.

Steve said, “What the fuck is going on, anyway?”

This time Brian answered him, and Cole thought there was an impatient edge to his voice. “I’m giving Cole a lesson, Steve,” he said. He never took his eyes off Cole. He continued, “Briefs, Cole,” and Cole eased his briefs over his erection and added them to the pile on the floor behind him. He felt very naked.

Brian said, “Look at Justin.” Cole looked. Justin was standing next to the bed, one hand on the handle of a broad black strap, the strap draped over the out-stretched palm of the other hand. “Do you see how he is standing? He keeps his head bent and his eyes on the floor all the time. That’s what you’ll do, too. No looking up unless I give you express permission. Understand?”

Cole nodded.

Brian’s voice cracked like a whip. “Answer me.”

Cole looked right at Brian. “I understand,” he said and looked down at the floor.

 

Justin wasn’t liking the way this evening was going, but it wasn’t the strap that worried him. Oh, it was vicious-looking and he feared its sting, but Cole worried him. They’d never played their games with another boy involved, and Justin didn’t want to start now. He scowled at the floor.

Brian said, “I saw that. Come here.”

Justin could feel his heart beating faster as he went down the three steps to Brian. Brian said, “Do you remember why we play these games?”

Justin whispered, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“To give you pleasure.”

“Exactly. What you want doesn’t matter…only what I want. Tonight I want Cole naked and obedient.”

Justin nodded. His eyes stung.

Brian tipped his head up. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Liquid swam in his blue eyes. His body leaned toward Brian, the movement almost involuntary. “Please…” he said, not even sure what he was asking for.

Brian gestured to the I-beam that ran from floor to ceiling. “Over there,” he said to Justin.

Steve moved, adjusting his jeans, and Brian turned. Cole’s head was up and he was obviously watching the interaction between Brian and Justin, but Brian didn’t say anything. He just looked at Cole until he dropped his gaze, then Brian said to Steve, “Would you like a drink? Come on over and have a seat at the table.” There was nothing particularly friendly in his voice.

Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks. Do you have a beer?”

Brian nodded and walked to the refrigerator. He pulled out two beers and put them both on the table in front of Steve. “That’s the end of my hospitality for tonight,” he said. “I’m going to be busy from now on.”

Steve gave a nervous laugh and said, “Well, that’s what we’re here for…“ his voice trailing off as Brian turned to Cole, obviously uninterested in Steven.

Brian motioned to a spot about two feet in back of where he was standing. “Here,” he said, and Cole walked over to stand where Brian had pointed. Justin’s eyes filled again. Cole’s penis was in Justin’s direct line of sight, and the boy was fully erect. _Fuck! I hate this._ He turned to face the I-beam, glad for once to hide his face against it. He wrapped his hands around the back edges, the strap dangling from his right hand.

A hard hand slapped his buttock with a clap that resounded in the quiet loft. Justin jerked in surprise…he’d had no warning…and the tears that had been so close to spilling rolled down his cheeks.

A second slap to his other buttock followed immediately. Brian said, “Caught you off-guard, didn’t I? (Slap.) You weren’t paying attention (slap)…too busy worrying about my new friend, right? (Slap.) As your mother no doubt said many times (slap), you worry about you, and let Cole worry about Cole.” (Harder slap.)

Justin pressed into the I-beam, catching his rigid cock between his body and the post. More tears rolled down his face. “I’m s-sorry,” he said. He sniffed and blinked, trying to stop the tears.

This time he was concentrating on Brian, and he heard the rustle of his clothes when he moved. A large hand covered the nape of his neck, then slowly stroked down his back. “So warm,” Brian murmured. The hand moved lower. “But not as warm as your ass. Not as warm, not as red.” Justin moaned. Brian ran his hand over the curve of Justin’s ass, soothing the hurt, then he turned Justin and pulled him into his chest.

Justin squirmed against him, feeling Brian’s arousal through the rough texture of his trousers. He wanted to press his hand against Brian’s length, to unzip Brian’s fly and slip his hand in, to feel the firmness and heat of Brian’s bare cock against his palm, and to hear the hitch in Brian’s breath as he started jerking him off. Without looking up, he curved his hand over Brian’s erection and pressed it into Brian’s body.

Brian’s hand covered his and pressed it even more firmly against his cock, then pulled it away. “Not yet,” he said, his voice flat. “You’ve been a very bad boy, and you haven’t been punished nearly enough. Turn around.” He snapped his fingers. “The strap, please.”

Justin pulled away from Brian’s body, every inch of lost contact painful, as though in their all-too-brief embrace Justin had somehow attached himself to Brian and was now tearing those connections loose. He looked at the strap for a moment…really looked at it…before handing it to Brian. It looked like pain personified: thick and black and slightly flexible. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to look up at Brian, to let his eyes plead for mercy. That would only earn him more punishment. He stifled a gasping noise and turned and hugged the cold I-beam, his body shuddering as it came into contact with the rough surface.

“We have an audience, Justin, so I expect you to show Cole and Steve that you can take your punishment like a man, not whining and crying and begging for mercy. You know you deserve what I’m going to give you, don’t you?” Justin shot a glance at Cole. His head was bent and Justin couldn’t see his face, but he felt the avidity of the boy’s attention. “Yeah,” he mumbled. The strap cracked on his ass and Justin jerked. “Answer properly. You know better than that.” Justin swallowed, and his cock leaked against the I-beam. “I was bad…” he started.  
“Speak up,” Brian said. “Louder.”

Justin swallowed again. “I deserve to get punished because I was…I was…bad.” He squirmed and shut his eyes, shutting out Brian, Cole, and Steve, too many observers of his humiliation. “Justin,” Brian said in a warning tone. “Turn your head and look at Cole while I tell you exactly how I’m going to punish you.” Justin turned his head and met Cole’s eyes. The boy’s face wore a combination of intense curiosity and embarrassed discomfort, but he didn’t look away. Justin flushed again, hating that he was to have no privacy right now, when the effect of Brian’s words would be clear on his face. “For saying you’d be home by 10:00 and not getting here until 4:00 a.m…ten strokes.” Justin sucked in his breath. “For being drunk and disorderly when you got here, five more. For not calling to tell me you’d be late, fifteen hard ones.” Justin’s body clenched and shuddered. “Do the arithmetic for me, Justin. How many altogether?”  
Cole licked his lips. Justin swallowed and fought the urge to close his eyes. “Thirty. That’s thirty altogether.”

“Correct. You know the rest of the drill, Justin. Tell Cole exactly what happens.”

Now Justin did shut his eyes briefly. _It’s none of his fucking business. It’s Brian’s business and mine. Fuck off, Cole._ When he opened them, Cole was still staring at him, his cock swollen and dripping, his face red. “I count the strokes out loud. If I miss one, Brian starts over, and for the last ten I jerk myself off as I count.”

“Make that the last fifteen and make damn sure you don’t fucking come.” The sting on his ass made Justin’s breath hitch, but he counted, “One.”

He braced himself for the next stroke, but it didn’t come. Brian said, “You. You get your hand away from there.” Justin turned his head slightly, just in time to see Cole’s hand fly off his cock. “You can touch yourself when Justin does, and you can come when he comes. Until then…keep your fucking hands where they belong…behind your damn back.”

Justin shuddered as the strap connected again. He blurted out, “Two,” simultaneously with Brian’s, “I said, pay attention to me, not to what’s happening with Cole.”

The loft was quiet except for the rhythmic sounds of the strap slapping firm flesh and Justin’s accompanying count, coughed out like an audible wince. “Three.” “Four.” “Five.” The individual strokes stung. Cumulatively, they hurt.

“Six.” “Seven.” “Eight.” Justin strained backwards, listening for Brian, trying to hear whether this was affecting him. Mentally he cursed Steve and Cody. Was that hitch of breath he’d started to hear with each stroke Brian’s or was it Steven or Cody? It had to be Brian getting hard, Brian’s dick pressing against his trousers, Brian slightly off his stroke because he had to pause long enough to adjust his dick.

“Nine.” “Ten.” “Eleven.” Justin arched into the post, his dick weeping. “Twelve.” “Thirteen.” The numbers sounded more like sobs now. “Fourteen.” “Fifteen.” Then he felt rather than heard Brian move. His warm hand turned Justin’s face sideways to the post, and soft lips kissed his tears. “You’re doing very well, Justin.”

Justin let go of the post with one hand and raised it to Brian’s cheek, pressing their faces together. “Am I being good, Brian?”

Brian grasped his hand and pulled it down to his crotch. Somewhere along the line, he had found an opportunity to unzip his trousers. Now he drew Justin’s hand in and wrapped it around his cock, hard and soft and wet. “What do you think, Justin?” he murmured.

Justin gasped, tightened his grip, and started moving his hand on Brian’s shaft. He heard Brian’s sharp intake of breath, then he was pulling Justin’s hand away. His voice was hard again, “Not yet. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.”

“I have, I have,” Justin said. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” _Fuck. I’m begging._ He turned his head back toward the post, hoping to hide the flush he could feel rushing to his cheeks.

Brian’s voice came from behind him, cold and hard. “Now you’re embarrassing me, Justin.”

Justin felt himself blush even more furiously. “I’m sorry, Brian. I’m so sorry.” He braced himself for the next stroke, squeezing his eyes shut. Instead he heard Brian say, “I see you watching, Cole. Are you learning anything? Are you learning what the fuck it feels like to punish somebody?”

Justin opened his eyes in time to see Cody nodding emphatically. His hand was already on his cock, and he was looking at Brian with a look Justin preferred not to see on anybody’s face except his own.

Now he heard the strap moving through the air. “Sixteen.” Justin angled his body out from the I-beam so that he could get his hand between his body and the post. _Damn, that feels so fucking good._ “Seventeen.” _I can’t…I can’t…fuck it._ ”Eighteen.” _Lighter, lighter, gotta lighten my grip or…._ “Nineteen.” _Don’t wanna. Mustn’t. Must. Brian said…_. “Twenty.”

Somewhere in the distance someone groaned, and he heard Brian speak. Then Brian was touching his shoulder, saying, “Stop,” and “Don’t move,” and he was sagging against the post, rutting gently against its rough surface, and he knew Brian had moved away.

***************************************************************************

The boy clinging to the pole, his ass rosy from its punishment, hadn’t come, but Cole was done listening to Brian Kinney. Every nerve ending on his body was at attention, over-stimulated and ready for his orgasm. He smoothed more pre-come down his shaft, gripped it firmly, and started jerking off in earnest. Against his will, his eyes fell shut, as the world narrowed down to his hand and his dick. He fell to his knees as he felt his body gathering itself and then…finally, finally…he came, groaning loudly.

He looked up, expecting to see an angry Brian. After all, he’d come when he shouldn’t have, and…probably worse…he’d come all over the hardwood floor. Surely Brian would be furious with him.

He wasn’t. He was just looking at Cole, his expression neutral. Cole looked back and recognized the signs of arousal: the dilated eyes, the flushed face, the gleam of sweat. Cole caught his breath. If Brian had been hot before, now his sexual magnetism blazed.

Brian said, “Get your clothes. It’s time for you two to leave.”

Cole pushed himself slowly to his feet, not sure that his legs would support him, and looked around for his clothes. He was snapping back into reality with a jolt, returning from the sexual fog Brian had created. He blinked and located his clothes, in a heap on the floor where he had left them.

He turned and walked to them shakily. He could hear Steve say something and Brian’s abrupt answer, but his head was turned and his attention was on the boy moving slowly against the I-beam. So blond, so beautiful, so compliant. Cole’s dick jerked. _Shit..I’m getting hard already._

Cole pulled on his jeans and shirt, stuffed his briefs in a pocket, picked up his Nikes and socks, and walked to where Brian was waiting by the open door. Steve was waiting for him beyond Brian, on the landing.

He could think of nothing to say to Brian…Thank you?…I had a good time?…Fuck, that was hot?…and was about to walk past him without speaking when Brian stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Remember, Cole, Justin and I have been doing this together for a couple of years now. We started slowly and built up to this. You should never try anything this long and intense the first time. Do you understand?”

Cole looked into the serious hazel eyes and nodded. “I understand.”

“Good luck then. And one more thing. No matter what I tell Justin, dominance is always about your partner and his experience. You always want him to associate the pain with pleasure.” He cocked an eyebrow at Cole.

Cole nodded again. “I’ll remember.” He flashed a sudden smile. “Believe me, I won’t ever forget anything about tonight.”

He stepped out into the landing and heard the door rolling closed behind him. Steve said, “That was something else, wasn’t it? Holy shit. That was hot.”

Cole sat down on the top step of the stairs and started pulling on his socks. “Yeah,” he said.

“Let’s go right back to my place.”

“I don’t think so, Steve. I think I’m going straight home.”

“You got off so you don’t need me, huh?”

“I’m just tired.”

“Well, next week then.”

“Right.” _I think I’ll check the Want Ads on Sunday. Time to get a new job._

***************************************************************************

The world was slowly coming back into focus when Justin heard the door slide shut, then seconds later, strong arms were scooping him up and carrying him to the bed. He wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck and put his lips up to his ear. “I didn’t come, Brian,” he said. “You said not to and I didn’t.”

“I know. You are a very good boy. You’ll come now, with me in you.” Brian dropped Justin on the bed and began ripping his own shoes and trousers off.

Justin was on his hands and knees, one hand on his dick. “Hurry. Please hurry. I don’t want to come alone.”

“You won’t, you won’t, I’m here.” Brian’s arm wrapped around his chest, Justin felt one hard push and Brian was in. _Thank God._

The push drove Justin’s head and shoulders to the bed as Brian’s hand replaced his on his cock. “Oh, God, God. Fuck. Brian.” Justin grabbed Brian’s hand, clenching it hard, dragging it up to the side of his head. He hung on as Brian pounded into him, wrenching gut-shaking groans from him with every thrust. He turned his head, brought Brian’s hand to his mouth and bit. Brian cursed and thrust harder, and Justin felt his whole body tightening. Then he was coming, coming, splattering his chest, his chin, the bedclothes. One more thrust, then another and another, and Brian was coming, too. Justin’s wobbly legs slid out from under him and he collapsed on to the bed.

He knew Brian went away, but he was already sliding into sleep. Sometime later…two minutes? five minutes? half an hour?…a warm naked body wrapped itself around him, and he felt a blanket covering him. A gentle voice said, “So good. So tired. Go to sleep.” Justin tried to smile an answer before he went over the edge, but whether he succeeded…he wasn’t sure..


End file.
